


Smile and Play a Song for Me

by SkyLeaf



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Parent-Child Relationship, Piano
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 12:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19334230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyLeaf/pseuds/SkyLeaf
Summary: In the drawing room on the second floor stood the piano where Scorpius had spent hours sitting with his mother, the two of them creating music, the sound of it echoing with the same magical touch as that of any spell his parents had ever shown him.





	Smile and Play a Song for Me

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know it has been years, but I still cry a little when I think about how broken and sad Scorpius sounded when he told Albus what had happened.

The piano was placed near the southern corner of the drawing room on the second floor. Scorpius had known that since he was young, when he had snuck out of his room late at night to explore the labyrinthine hallways and rooms of the manor, stumbling upon the huge instrument moments before he had heard his father’s voice echo through the hallways, telling him that his parents had already discovered the empty bed. As Scorpius had not yet been ready to end his adventure, he glanced through the room, searching for a spot that would be big enough to hide him and still not give away his hiding place. That place ended up being beneath the piano, so, casting one last glance towards the door leading out into the hallway outside, Scorpius crawled under the piano, moments before his father opened the door and stepped into the room.

Scorpius followed his father’s path through the room with his eyes, careful not to make a sound. From his spot under the piano, he could only see his father’s shoes, but his voice was as clear as it had always been when his father stopped in the middle of the room, slowly turning around once.

“So he is not here,” Scorpius’ father said, and Scorpius had to bite back a tiny laugh. His father really could not see anything; he had not even noticed that he was really in the room! As he continued, Scorpius could hear how his father’s next words were directed towards his mother out in the hallway. “No, he is not here, Astoria. Maybe he has gone to the kitchen!”

The answer from his mother was not quite loud enough for Scorpius to be able to make out the words, but he could imagine what she would say, how she would no doubt already have twirled around to run to the kitchen, and he grinned to himself. This was the perfect hiding place; no one would ever have to find him!

But the next second, Scorpius saw his father’s face right in front of his own.

“Found you!” his father exclaimed, extending his hand towards him. “Do you want to come out now?”

“No!”

“Not even to hear about this piano you seem so fond of?”

At that, Scorpius hesitated. He had not considered that there would be anything interesting to tell about the piano, but the moment after his father had suggested it, Scorpius already knew that he did indeed want to know more about the instrument.

“I could tell you the story of how we got it,” his father continued, and that was what made the decision for Scorpius.

He crawled towards his father, taking his hand and letting him help him move the last couple of inches until he was able to stand up without risking hitting his head against the piano.

“Look,” Scorpius’ father said as they sat down on the tiny bench in front of the instrument and Scorpius looked. He was not sure exactly what his father wanted him to see, but from how he reached out to rest his hand on top of the closed lid, Scorpius knew that even if he did not known what to look for, his father did know what it was that made it so special, “I got this for your mother shortly after we had got married.”

That did make sense to Scorpius. After all, he had heard his aunt talk about how his mother had enjoyed playing the piano when she was younger. But even then, he had not had any idea about the fact that there was a piano in this room.

Luckily, he did not have to ask for an explanation as his father had already continued. “She had mentioned it a couple of times and when I talked to Daphne, your aunt,” at that, Scorpius nodded. He knew Aunt Daphne, she was the one who had taught him how to read, insisting that he was more than capable of reading the books in the library already, “she told me about the piano that had been in their childhood home.”

“So you bought this one for mother?”

Scorpius’ father nodded. “I did.”

After sending a long glance towards the piano and trying to imagine what it would sound like, Scorpius turned back towards his father. “When I grow up, I want to play it just like mother did!”

“You won’t have to wait to grow up to be able to begin practising,” his father said and Scorpius could have sworn that his heart jumped with joy. He didn’t have to wait? His father must have seen the question he was about to ask in his eyes, for he shook his head a little, sending him a small smile, “but you will, however, have to wait for tomorrow. It is past you bedtime and I don’t think your mother would be happy to hear that you spent the entire night in here playing the piano, no matter how beautiful I am sure it would be. So what do you say, do you want to go back to bed now so that we can wait for the morning to arrive again? Then, I will talk to your mother about this.”

He hesitated for a second. The piano looked so much more inviting than the idea of sleeping right then, and there was nothing Scorpius would rather have done than staying in the room for the rest of the night, begging his father to help him lift up the lid to let him play. But his head was heavy, and although Scorpius was certain that he would be able to ignore it for at least another couple of hours, the idea of going to sleep did seem more and more tempting the more his eyes began to grow tired. Besides, once he fell asleep, the sun would be back in what would only feel like a couple of seconds. So he nodded and let his father carry him back to his bedroom, along the hallways Scorpius had run past in his quest to find hidden corners of the mansion.

The piano would still be there for him in the morning.

 

+++

 

In the daylight, the room looked completely different from what Scorpius could remember, the unknown sight that met him as he stepped into the drawing room that morning taking him by surprise and making him step backwards, out into the hallway again.

“Are we in the right place?” he asked, sending the piano a wary glance. It had looked harmless when he had crawled beneath it the day before, but now Scorpius saw that it was much taller than himself, casting long shadows through the room.

Next to him, his mother nodded, not once letting go of his hand, not even as she slowly stepped deeper into the room. “Yes. It just looks a bit different now because you can see everything,” she said.

As she took another step away from him, Scorpius knew that he would soon either have to let go of his mother’s hand or walk with her towards the piano, and although the sight of the piano did still seem completely unlike what he had seen yesterday, Scorpius knew that no matter what, even if it did turn out to be dangerous, he would still rather be with his mother than be left alone in the hallway, so he went with her, returning the little smile she shot him as he sat down next to her on the bench.

Lifting up the lid, Scorpius’ mother slowly reached out to press down one of the keys. A clear, bright sound echoed through the room, and had it not been for how Scorpius had seen his mother press down the key and had listened to his aunt when she had shown him the piano that decorated the drawing room of her manor, he would not have believed that the instrument he had hid underneath the day before and had now almost been enough to make him give up his dream of learning to create music like his mother had really been the reason for why he leant in closer to the keys, waiting as his mother repeated the sound again. It felt just as magical the second time the sound filled the room, and Scorpius could not help but wonder if there really hadn’t been cast any spells on the piano. Aunt Daphne had told him that the piano was simply the result of an intricate process that required many hours to be poured into it and that most of them were created with barely any magic, but as his mother began to play, Scorpius knew that that could not possibly be the case. There had to be at least a couple of spells hidden away inside the piano for the melody his mother created to flow around him like a river.

As his mother lifted her hand away from the keys again and looked down at him, Scorpius could feel how his resolve to learn to play just like her weakened. It had been beautiful when his mother had played, but what if he would attempt to do the same, only for it to come out in a jumbled mess?

“Scorpius,” his mother said, interrupting his worried thoughts, “do you want to try now?”

“I am not sure that I can.” his voice was tiny, and even Scorpius was barely able to hear what he had said.

However, it did not seem that his mother had the same problem, for she drew her eyebrows together and pulled him a bit closer to her. “And why do you think that?”

“Because,” he gestured towards her, “you could do that, and I—” Scorpius paused, suddenly not so sure what he had intended to say, “I know that I will not be able to make it sound the way you did.”

His mother laughed softly as she reached out to ruffle his hair. “And you don’t have to.” she must have noticed his disbelieving look, for she continued with a nod. “You don’t. You can play exactly what you want as long as you enjoy the process. Of course, I can only teach you what I know, but other than that, I would be more than happy to see you play exactly what you want to play.” she reached out to show him how she placed her hand on the keys, her fingers barely touching the surface of them. “Try to do what I do and then you will see that it is really not that scary.”

Scorpius slowly did as his mother instructed him to, copying the way she moved her hand ever so slightly to press one of the keys. He was not quite able to reach the last of the keys, but his mother just smiled at him and moved her ring finger one key closer to the rest of her hand, and then Scorpius was able to follow along as she showed him how he could press down one key after another to make a short melody appear from somewhere inside the piano. It was nothing like the one his mother had shown him, and the first couple of attempts ended with Scorpius either forgetting the combination or hitting the wrong key, but as the morning turned to noon, he found that he was making progress, albeit slowly, and by the time his father came into the room to look at what they were doing, Scorpius smiled until his cheeks hurt when his mother stood up to tell his father about what he had learnt already, his father sending him an impressed nod when Scorpius repeated the melody.

“That was amazing,” Scorpius father said as the melody ended, “keep practicing and I am sure that you will be able to play anything you want soon enough.”

And that was exactly what Scorpius wanted to so the moment he had finished his lunch, he ran back up to the drawing room on the second floor to continue playing.

 

+++

 

Scorpius was eight years old when his aunt visited Malfoy Manor for his birthday. Daphne had brought a present for him, pausing to hug him before handing him the box of Chocolate Frogs, but the best part of her visit was when Scorpius managed to convince her to sit down in the couch while he played the piece of music his mother had showed him the month before.

“What do you think?” he asked as he lifted his hand from the last key, at once both anxious to hear her verdict on the quality and excited to listen to what his aunt, the first person he had heard mention his mother’s passion for the piano, had to say about what he had learnt.

Maybe Daphne knew that he was waiting, for she certainly made sure to let him wait while she tapped her finger against her chin, staring intensely at the piano before finally answering him. “I think it was amazing, Scorpius. Absolutely amazing. Just you wait, I am sure that you will be better than your mother in no time.”

He could almost feel his cheeks burn bright red at the compliment. Better than his mother? Scorpius doubted it. As far back as he could remember, his mother had always sat next to him for two hours each Saturday to listen to what he had tried to learn over the past week, correcting his mistakes with a little smile and making sure to tell him what had been good. Scorpius doubted that he would ever be able to be better than her.

But although Scorpius had his doubts about her words, he still thanked his aunt, and as his mother and father joined them in the drawing room a couple of minutes later, sitting down next to his aunt as Scorpius played the little melody again, the words still echoed through his head.

Better than his mother.

 

+++

 

There was no piano when he arrived at Hogwarts.

Scorpius could not help but feel a bit disappointed as he made that observation. Hogwarts might be one of the best wizarding schools in the world, but how could they expect him to practice if there was no piano for him to practice on? Luckily, that particular issue disappeared almost the instant he mentioned it to the friend he had made on his way to the castle.

Albus Potter simply looked up at him, the question having seemingly made him stop glaring down at the Slytherin table they were sitting at with a look in his eyes like he could not quite believe that he was sitting here with Scorpius rather than with his brother at the Gryffindor table. If he had to be honest with himself, Scorpius could also not quite understand it. From what he had heard about the Potter family, they had always been sorted into Gryffindor, but he would never complain about the fact that he and the first friend he had made while at Hogwarts had both ended up in the same house. Scorpius knew too much about how rare friends were to worry about the cold stares they had received while walking through the Great Hall. He only wished that Albus would not look at the table and the green and silver colours that surrounded them with an expression like he wanted to run back over to the Sorting Hat and demand that it would have to place him in another house. But at the very least, Albus did look at him when he asked if he knew where he could go if he wanted to play the piano, and although he was still frowning, Scorpius decided to interpret that as a good sign.

“Well, I suppose that if anyone knew where to find a piano here, it would be my uncle,” he said after pondering the question for a couple of seconds, “why?”

Scorpius shrugged. “I don’t know. I was just curious.”

He should have told him, Scorpius knew that. Albus was his friend and although they had only known each other for a couple of hours, a part of him did also want to tell him about the piano that had been placed in the drawing room on the second floor of Malfoy Manor, but for some reason, he found that he couldn’t. It was his own secret, something he shared with his mother, father, and aunt, and although Albus was his friend, Scorpius was still not quite sure if he was ready to tell him about the wonders of the piano.

If Albus found the question and the lack of an answer strange, at least he did not comment on it, and the next day at breakfast, a grey owl landed next to him on the table, carrying a letter from George Weasley. With the letter in hand, the two of them soon left the Great Hall to follow the instructions in the letter, the orders taking them to the seventh floor of the castle, in a corridor that Scorpius had not seen on his first day. And maybe that was why he did not notice the door until he had already passed by the spot several times.

Opening the door and seeing that the room contained not one, but rows upon rows of pianos, Scorpius felt like he could sit down and cry, and the strange instructions in the letter for him to focus on his wish to play piano while walking past the door to the room was soon forgotten as Scorpius did his best not to cry in front of his new friend.

“Well, then I guess we found it,” Albus observed, making a gesture towards the pianos, “I mean, I might not really know why this was so important, but they are certainly beautiful.”

Scorpius could only nod as he looked at the piano standing right in front of them. It looked exactly like the one he had left behind in the manor when he had left with the Hogwarts Express, tall and with the intricate carvings on the side of it being a perfect replica as those that decorated the piano at home.

“Yeah, I suppose we did,” Scorpius said, mentally storing the instructions about how to find the room so that he would be able to come back later.

 

+++

 

Somehow, Scorpius managed to keep the daily trips to the Room of Requirement a secret from Albus for several months. In the end, he was halfway convinced that Albus was aware of the fact that Scorpius always headed towards the nearest staircase when he left him, often with the excuse that he needed to go to the Slytherin common room to read a bit, and that his excuse did not exactly fit the direction, but had simply decided not to ask about it anymore. He should have been happy for that since it meant that, if Scorpius wanted to, he could continue to play in secret and then return to Albus with some comment about what had happened in the book that still lay in his suitcase, untouched and unread, but as they days passed, and Scorpius began to realise that Albus was not going to leave him even though it appeared that half of the school did not like Scorpius and seemed to extend the same hard shoves and cold stares to Albus as well whenever he was seen next to Scorpius, he also felt increasingly guilty about the secret.

That was why he, shortly after returning from having spent the holidays at home, dragged Albus along with him towards the Room of Requirement. Even as Albus complained about the essay he had yet to write that needed to be finished tomorrow, Scorpius still struggled a bit to keep up with his friend, as Albus kept running ahead of him, with the result that Scorpius constantly had to call for him to wait and to tell him that he was walking in the wrong direction. But, finally, they did reach the room, Scorpius passing back and forth until the door appeared. By now, he had realised the reasons for why George had reminded him to focus on what he needed while walking around in the corridor, so when Scorpius pushed the door open for Albus, he was pleased to see that the room was significantly smaller than what it had been the first time he had entered it, the only piano present being the one that looked like it could have been an exact copy of the one back at home and with a short couch standing next to it.

“Do you—” Albus motioned towards the piano while walking over to sit down in the couch, not taking his eyes off the instrument for even a moment.

Scorpius nodded. “Yes. I do. That was actually what I wanted to tell you.” and suddenly, the plans he had had about how he wanted to tell him seemed silly. After all, he was just playing the piano. The only thing here that was even the tiniest bit strange was the fact that he had not been honest about the reason why there being a piano at Hogwarts had been so important to him in the first place. But Scorpius forced himself not to spend too much time thinking about that. He knew that it would only lead to him making himself panic and freeze, and right now, he wanted to sit down and play, so although his legs felt like they had been replaced with stone, Scorpius walked over to the piano and sat down, shooting Albus a questioning glance. “Do you want to hear?”

“Yes.” Albus did not hesitate, already leaning in slightly. “Yes, definitely. I would love to.”

Scorpius laughed, a nervous little sound, before he made himself forget everything about how important it was that he did not make a single mistake while Albus was sitting right there, listening to him and how Albus was probably still wondering why he had acted the way he had done at the Welcoming Feast. In that moment, everything that existed was the piano in front of him and the song his mother had taught him when she had sat down with him during the holidays to go over the way his fingers were supposed to fly over the keys to create the perfect sound. The bullies disappeared, their taunts and pushes being replaced with the rhythm of alternately stepping down on the pedal and letting go of it, the lessons and mountains of homework that they received each day were soon replaced with the feeling of the keys and the slight resistance they provided when Scorpius began to play, and in the end, even Albus’s presence had to leave his mind to let the melody seep into every little corner of the room.

He reached the end of the piece of music before he even realised that the worry about whether or not he would make a mistake had left him, Scorpius looking over at Albus, for once feeling completely confident that he had managed to do something correctly. And with the way Albus was looking at him, eyes wide and mouth already forming silent words as Albus first stared at the piano and then back up at Scorpius, he knew that Albus would agree.

“Wow.” that was the first thing Albus said when he was finally able to produce sounds. Blinking, he pushed himself off the couch and went to stand next to Scorpius. “That was… that was really great.” Albus reached out to let his hand rest on top of the piano, but withdrew it at the last moment when Scorpius was unable to hide the slight grimace. “Sorry—” Albus began, looking back over at him, the confusion seeping into his voice, but Scorpius interrupted him.

“No, I am sorry. That had nothing to do with you, I—I just—” and before Scorpius had properly realised what he was doing, he found himself moving over to sit in the couch, telling Albus everything about all of the times his mother had been willing to spend hours listening to the little tunes Scorpius had made up, tunes he could now confidently say had been absolutely horrendous, but where his mother had nevertheless taken the time to find what little good things there had been about them, how she had been the one to teach him how he could reach keys that otherwise seemed to far away from the last, and how she had always been the first, along with his father, to sit down and listen to what he had practiced since the last time he had dragged them into the drawing room to listen to him.

Albus was silent through it all, only nodding when Scorpius finished his story. “It seems to me that you really like playing the piano,” he said.

It was an obvious observation, but it did make Scorpius laugh a little. “I suppose I do,” he agreed, feeling how the tight feeling in his chest that had been sitting there since the first time he had lied about the reasons why he needed to find the piano disappeared completely.

Although his mother might not be there with him at Hogwarts to listen to all of the tiny melodies he created, Scorpius could still play, and as the weeks passed, he found that Albus was always happy to join him in the Room of Requirement, sometimes bringing his homework along with him, but often simply sitting there on the couch to listen to the music.

After that, going to the Room of Requirement to play do longer made Scorpius feel lonely.

 

+++

 

Scorpius had known that his mother’s condition had been worsening in the past year. How could he not have known when he had asked about her in every single letter he had sent home? But although he should have expected it when his father was the only one to come pick him up from Platform Fine and Three-Quarters, should have known that something was seriously wrong when his question about where his mother was only caused his father to blink rapidly, hiding his face from Scorpius like he was crying, and tell him, his voice trembling slightly, that Astoria had been moved to St Mungo’s only a week ago when the healers had deemed it too dangerous for her to stay in the manor any longer, nothing would ever have been able to prepare Scorpius for the sight that met him when they finally arrived at her hospital ward.

His mother lay in her bed, much paler and thinner than what he remembered from when he had been home for the holidays. The sight of his mother lying there and the healer standing next to her looking over at Scorpius for a moment before squeezing his mother’s hand and whispering something to her Scorpius could not hear and leaving the room, only pausing for a second to send Scorpius a sad smile, was more than enough to make him stand perfectly still, unable to step over the threshold.

“Scorpius.” even as his emotions were a mess—anger, sadness, guilt, and fear combined to form what to Scorpius felt like a whirlpool—his mother’s voice was still able to reach him. “Scorpius, will you come over here?”

Walking into the room, walking over to her, felt like a silent acceptance of what both his father’s tears, the awful atmosphere in St Mungo’s, and the little, sad smile from the healer were already telling him was about to happen, and that was the last thing Scorpius wanted. But his mother reached out for him, her hand resting on top of her sheets, and from the expression on her face, Scorpius could tell that even the tiny gesture had required her to use almost all of her strength, so how could he say no and stubbornly refuse to move? The answer was that Scorpius couldn’t, so although he would rather have sat down on the ground and cried, he made himself move over to stand next to his mother.

“I have missed you,” she said, taking his hand. His mother’s hands were cold, and Albus had always claimed that Scorpius had abnormally cold hands himself as well. Scorpius tried his best not to think about it as his mother continued, “have you had a good year at Hogwarts?”

He hadn’t. First some of the fifth years had taken his favourite quill and then Albus had tried to defend him from someone who had called him the son of Voldemort, but as Scorpius stood there with his mother looking like even the relatively simple act of stringing words together was almost too much for her and his father still standing next to him, barely able to keep back the tears, Scorpius knew that he could not mention that. So he didn’t.

“Yes, it has been great. I have taught Albus a bit about how to play the piano, I think he really likes it!” it was not technically a lie. Scorpius had indeed spent several hours trying to figure out how to explain to Albus that he was supposed to plan ahead so that he knew he would be able to reach the next key, but as Scorpius continued to talk about the time he had spent in front of a piano in the Room of Requirement, he could almost have fooled himself into thinking that the only thing he had done since returning to the school after the holidays had been to play piano.

The lies were all worth it though, even if it did feel wrong to think about how a group of sixth years from Gryffindor had pushed him into a wall, making his ink bottle break and then choose to simply say that the reason he needed to find another copy of the sheet music was that he had lost the old copy, when his mother smiled at him in the end, the expression making her look a little bit younger, her face not quite as gaunt anymore, even though she still looked scarily small as she lay there in the middle of all the white.

“I am happy to hear that,” Scorpius’ mother said, and he could hear in her voice that it was true. Although she was here in St Mungo’s and might possibly never be able to leave again, hearing about how he had been able to show Albus how to use the pedals had made her happy. Scorpius had to blink back the tears as his mother added, “I can’t wait to come home again. Do you know that there is no piano in here?”

“No.” Scorpius nodded. He had not thought to look for a piano. When he and his father had arrived, Scorpius almost falling over as they stepped through the window, the only thing he had been able to think about had been how he had to hurry to find his mother, how she was somewhere in the building, only waiting for him. Not even once had he thought to look for a piano while walking next to his father as they made their way up to her room.

Perhaps his mother guessed the reason for his silence, because she squeezed his hand, and although there was barely any strength behind the gesture, it did make him feel just a little bit better, especially as his mother looked at him and shook her head ever so slightly. “I am also almost grateful that there is not piano.” Scorpius must have sent her a questioning look—why would his mother ever be happy not to be able to play the piano, it did not make any sense—for she clarified. “The healers have told me not to leave my bed even if I am convinced that I would be able to go home right now if they just gave me permission to do so.”

At that, Scorpius looked at his mother, halfway expecting to see a joking smile, for as she lay there, pale, small, and with her hair having lost its volume and shine, Scorpius doubted that she would even be able to sit up in her bed. But the only thing he could see in her eyes was the same kind of tired expression he had seen when he had first stepped into the room. For some reason, that scared him more than anything else, and as his mother nodded towards the door, the movement devoid of any strength, Scorpius couldn’t help but tighten his grip on her hand a little while his mother turned back to look at him.

“I don’t want to know that I am only a few floors away from the nearest piano and that the only reason I can’t go to play is that the healers have told me not to.” Astoria Malfoy might have smiled but there was no energy behind the grimace.

It was in that moment that a horrible thought struck Scorpius, and he could hear how his voice rose as he all but threw himself to the floor, sitting next to the bed while he gripped his mother’s hand with both of his. “But you are going to be okay, right? You are going to come back home with us before the summer is over and then you can play on the piano back at home again. I have a lot of things I need to show you, Albus told his aunt about the piano and she gave him the sheet music to something she had played when she was younger—you have to see that, I know you will love it, the melody sounds a bit like this.” Scorpius tried to hum what little he could remember from the hours he had spent sitting in front of the piano in the Room of Requirement with Albus, the two of them trying their best to help each other, but already before he had even begun, his voice was shaking too much for him to be able to do much else than to cry and bury his face in the sheets.

He felt how his mother reached out to ruffle his hear, the gesture slow and unprecise.

“Of course I am going to get better,” his mother said, “just you wait, in a week, I know that the healers here will have no other choice than to let me leave when they look at me. Then, I can come home and listen to what you have learnt. I promise you that. I will come back home again.” Scorpius was not sure if she looked at him or at his father when she paused for a second, seemingly unsure of what to say, but he knew that she had moved her head as he heard the sheets rustle a little, the sound appearing incredibly loud since he had still pressed his ear to the bed, but when his mother added the last sentence, Scorpius knew that it didn’t matter who she had said it to. After all, there was nothing any of them wanted more than for his mother to be able to come back home with them.

 

+++

 

His mother had lied to him.

Scorpius could almost not understand it.

His mother had lied to him. His mother, the one who had sat down with him at the piano when he was six years old to explain why it was not okay to tell his father that he had not already eaten pudding even though the lie had seemed so small to Scorpius at the time, had lied to him. She had told him that everything would be fine and that she would come back home with him and his father, and then she… hadn’t.

At first, Scorpius had not believed them. He had not believed his father when he had come to his room, not to take his hand so that the two of them could Apparate to the window that led to St Mungo’s, but to instead sit down next to him on his bed and try to explain that sometimes, life simply came to an end before anyone could have expected it, before it would have been right, and he had certainly not believed the healer who had crouched down on the floor when Scorpius had convinced his father that they needed to go to St Mungo’s since there had obviously been some kind of mistake and told him that he understood what he was going through and that, right now, he needed to be strong.

But in the end, no amounts of telling his father with a voice that sounded oddly detached even to Scorpius himself that he was wrong and no amounts of telling the healer that they had made a mistake, they must have mistaken his mother for someone else, her name was Astoria Malfoy, there must be someone else in St Mungo’s with a similar name, had been enough to make his mother appear next to him to tell him that the healer was just trying to do her job. As the healer gave up, sending him one last pitying look before standing up and saying something to his father, Draco Malfoy nodding at her before taking Scorpius’s hand and leaving the hospital, the only thing Scorpius could think was that this was wrong. It was wrong, no matter what his father and the healer said. They were supposed to leave with his mother; she had promised that they would not have to leave without her.

The moment they entered the manor, Scorpius sprinted away from his father. He could already hear how he was trying to figure out how to continue the talk he had begun that morning, and in that moment, Scorpius knew that he would not be able to sit there and talk about it for even a second longer, so he ran up the stairs, raced past painting after painting of earlier inhabitants of the manor, for once not stopping to make sure not to look up at the scarier portraits.

His legs must have known where he needed to go, for although Scorpius had run through the manor without thinking about his destination, he soon found himself in the drawing room on the second floor. The piano was still standing there, almost like his mother could come home any minute now to sit down on the piano stool, gesturing for him to join her so that they could discuss the last couple of months and what Scorpius had practiced while being at Hogwarts.

But today, Scorpius sat down on the stool all alone and placed his hand on the keys without his mother giving him an approving nod.

The piece of music was beautiful, Scorpius and Albus had already realised that the first time they had gone to the Room of Requirement, and he could understand why Hermione Granger would have loved it. But right then, even though Scorpius knew that, just a little month earlier, the thought of playing the Minister for Magic’s favourite piece of music would have made him so incredibly proud, it all sounded flat and uninteresting to him.

“Scorpius.”

The sound of his father’s voice made Scorpius turn around.

There, standing in the doorway, a look on his face like he was not quite sure if he should step into the room or stay in the corridor outside, was his father. Seeing the red and swollen look around his eyes felt worse than the one time Scorpius had been pushed down the stairs, and he tried his best not to think about how he had left his father alone when he had run to the drawing room and how he had most likely spent the time Scorpius had been sitting in front of the piano crying.

“Yes?”

“Can I come in?”

Scorpius didn’t answer, simply moved over a bit on the piano stool. His father seemed to understand the invitation, for he soon came over to join him. The two of them stared at the piano, and for the longest time, they were both silent. But just as Scorpius was beginning to think that that was it, his father just wanted to sit there for a while, he broke the silence between them.

“I—” Scorpius’ father hesitated, and Scorpius did not miss how he glanced down at him, “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

He only barely managed to bite back a tiny, humourless laugh that would no doubt have made his mother’s tone of voice turn sharp, a thing Scorpius could only remember having experienced a handful of times in his life. But, reminding himself of how his father had looked when he had stood there in the doorway, waiting for permission to enter the room, Scorpius forced himself to supress it, instead shrugging slightly. “I don’t want to play the piano anymore. I don’t want to sit in front of this ever again.”

At that, his father went silent. Scorpius could not blame him. Until he had opened his mouth and those were the words that had come out, he would never have expected for him to say anything like that. After all, the piano had been one of the things he had cared about the most for years and the piano he had found in the Room of Requirement had been where he had gone when someone had mentioned the rumours or when he had been homesick, but Scorpius knew that he would not be able to sit down in front of this piano ever again, not without his mother to sit next to him and encourage him to continue trying even when he felt more like giving up.

Scorpius could feel how his father looked at him for several seconds. He simply continued to look directly at the piano, trying his best to force back the tears.

Finally, his father sighed and nodded. “Then you won’t have to.”

 

+++

 

Scorpius returned home from his third year at Hogwarts to find the drawing room on the second floor empty.


End file.
